Chapter 11 October 1941
Chapter 11
October 1941
It had been two weeks since the attack on Tangmere airfield and the Germans had intensified their bombing campaign. Fitz had been ferrying planes every day as the factory tried to keep up with demand.
She hadn’t spoken to Sam in that time. He had tried to telephone the house she was billeted at twice now, but each time she had declined to take the call. It was cruel, she knew. There was nothing more she wanted than to speak to him, but she knew if she heard his voice her resolve would crumble. He had even turned up on two nights unannounced on his Brough but she had been away on an overnight assignment.
‘He stayed outside on his motorbike for three hours,’ reported Marjorie the next day. ‘I went out to him but he was adamant he’d wait just in case you returned. In the end he had to go, Mrs Temple said she didn’t want him hanging around outside the house as it wasn’t good for her reputation. Something about the neighbours would think it was a house of ill repute.’
Fitz wanted to laugh at the idea of their landlady worrying about her house being one of ill repute, but it wanted to make her cry more. The thought of Sam desperate to see her was almost too painful to contemplate.
‘I don’t know why you don’t just speak to him,’ Elsie said.
‘The man is clearly head over heels in love with you,’ said Marjorie, as they boarded the bus that was taking them to Hamble ferry pool. ‘I’m with Elsie on this, you should at least hear him out.’
Marjorie and Elsie sat down on a double seat and Fitz took the empty seat in front of them. She turned to face her friends. ‘I can’t speak to him,’ she said. ‘It will be too hard to turn him away a second time.’
‘But why? What has he done?’ asked Elsie. ‘I would die to have a chap as gorgeous as Flying Officer Sam Carter. An American who is handsome as hell too.’
‘And don’t say it’s because he’s not your type, either,’ said Marjorie. ‘He is absolutely your type.’
‘I told you,’ said Fitz. ‘I’m not the settling down sort. I want to have fun, especially when this war is over. I refuse to clip my flying wings and I refuse to clip my social wings either.’
Sitting on a bus on her way to the ferry pool wasn’t quite the place she imagined having a heart to heart with the girls. Fortunately, the bus wasn’t too busy and most people seemed engrossed either in their own conversations or reading a newspaper.
‘You can still be in love without clipping any wings,’ said Marjorie.
‘Look, this fling with Sam, was purely that. A fling. It was never anything serious. Not on my part, anyway.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ asked Elsie.
‘Poppycock,’ declared Marjorie, folding her arms as if to underline her utter disbelief.
Fitz let out a long sigh. ‘If you must know,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t love him. I don’t want to love him. Not now. It’s the wrong time. Maybe if I was to meet him in ten years’ time when the damn war is over, then maybe things would be different. But not now.’
Fitz turned to face the front, not able to look at her friends in case they saw the tears in her eyes. She was grateful neither of her friends pushed for any further explanation. She didn’t want to talk about Sam, even after a couple of weeks, it still felt as raw as it had that day back at Tangmere.
The bus rattled on towards the ferry pool. Marjorie and Elsie talked about the cake Mrs Temple had promised to make for Elsie’s birthday later that month. Food restrictions were very much in effect now and with butter being rationed since the beginning of the year, Mrs Temple said she was keeping some back each week. She was also going to barter with her neighbour with the eggs her two hens produced each day.
‘Exchange is no robbery,’ Mrs Temple was fond of saying.
Soon enough the bus pulled up around the corner from the ferry pool. Fitz paused to fix the strap on her gas mask box that had worked itself loose. Marjorie and Elsie were ahead of her and she broke into a little run to catch up with them. As they turned to walk into the airfield, Fitz stopped in her tracks.
Sam Carter was sitting on his Brough motorbike just like he had been that time at Westhampnett.
Marjorie and Elsie had also stopped. The former turned to Fitz. ‘Give the poor man a chance,’ she said. ‘He’s desperate to speak to you.’
‘Did you know about this?’ demanded Fitz.
‘Of course not,’ said Elsie.
Fitz wasn’t sure whether she believed her friend or not. She hung back as Marjorie and Elsie went on through the gates to the airfield, then slowly she walked over to Sam, trying to work out how she was ever going to cope with speaking to him. He looked as handsome as ever but there was such sadness in his eyes. The very same eyes she had seen in her dreams every night.
‘Hello, Sam,’ she managed to say, rather more cheery than necessary.
‘Hey, Fitz.’ He hooked his leg over the fuel tank and stood in front of her.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said after a few seconds.
‘Why? Because it makes it difficult for you?’
Wow. He wasn’t going to tackle this gently. She looked up at him and plastered on a smile, followed by a chuckle. ‘Whatever makes you say that? It’s jolly nice to see you. How have you been keeping?’
Sam frowned. ‘Not too good as it happens.’ He sighed and looked away before looking back at her. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Her heart was thudding and she was sure he could hear it but she forced herself to keep up the nonchalant stance. ‘Oh, that’s sweet. I would have thought you’d have been too busy fighting the Germans or got yourself another girl by now.’
‘Why the hell would I want to do that?’
‘I’m sure you could have your pick of the Attagirls,’ continued Fitz. ‘Whisking them off on your bike.’ She nodded at the machine. ‘I’m surprised you’ve had time to even think about me. Anyway, it’s been awfully nice to see you, but I really have to get to work. Got a plane to fly.’
She went to walk around him, but he stepped into her path. ‘Why are you being like this?’
She blinked hard as if she were perplexed by the question. ‘Being like what?’
‘Jesus, Fitz. You’re acting like you don’t care about me. About us.’
‘Sam, I thought I made it clear before,’ she said. ‘There is no us.’ She wanted to cut her own tongue out of her mouth.
‘You’re lying.’
‘Sam, please,’ she said, her resolve beginning to weaken.
‘Don’t you miss me at all?’ he demanded.
Of course she missed him. She missed him more than she ever imagined possible but to confess to that now was only paving the way for heartbreak. She had to remind herself of what was at stake.
‘I don’t mean to sound brutal,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been too busy.’
‘Too busy?’
‘I’ve got a new boyfriend,’ she said. ‘He’s a squadron leader. Jolly nice chap, too.’
Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘A new boyfriend?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Do you love him?’ A muscle twitched in Sam’s jaw.
Fitz swallowed. Now was not the time to fall to pieces. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters to me,’ snapped Sam. ‘Do you love him?’
‘I need to go,’ said Fitz, not able to meet his gaze.
Again, Sam blocked her path. ‘Do you love me?’ His voice was quiet, this time. ‘Did you ever love me, Fitz?’
‘Sam, please.’
‘Answer the goddam question.’
Before Fitz could answer, though, the duty guard came over. ‘Is everything all right here?’ he asked, eyeing Sam up.
‘Just fine, buddy,’ replied Sam, his gaze still fixed on Fitz.
‘Miss?’ queried the guard.
‘Everything is fine, thank you,’ replied Fitz. This time Sam didn’t block her path as she hurried on through the gates. She didn’t turn around despite being aware of his gaze still tracking her. She didn’t want him to see the anguish and tears on her face.
Fitz didn’t have time to dwell on her encounter with Sam. Despite Marjorie and Elsie trying to quiz her, she refused to discuss it. The sooner she was in the air and away from everything and everyone, the better as far as she was concerned.
Half an hour after receiving her chitties for the day, Fitz was landing a Spitfire into Westhampnett. She had been given an assignment to deliver to the satellite airfield with an immediate onward trip to Biggin Hill, delivering a high-ranking officer back to his station. She was glad there was no hanging around at Westhampnett, just in case Sam turned up. Although in her heart of hearts, she knew he wouldn’t this time.
Soon enough she was landing the aircraft and her passenger at Biggin Hill.
Fitz climbed out of the plane, followed by the officer.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘You’re Fitz, aren’t you?’
‘Erm, yes, sir. Geraldine Fitz-Herbert.’
He studied her for what seemed like an age before he spoke. ‘Could you come with me please? I’d like to talk to you.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Fitz’s mind was racing. What on earth had she done to warrant a talking-to from an officer? She followed him into the station and down a corridor, before entering what she assumed was his office.
‘Sit down,’ he said, indicating to the chair. ‘Don’t look so worried. You’re not in trouble.’ He perched on the edge of the desk. ‘I’m Flying Officer Henley. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Have you?’ Fitz didn’t think this was a good thing and didn’t really know how to respond. She opted not to say anything else.
‘You’re quite a pilot, so I understand,’ continued Henley. ‘In fact, pretty damn good by all accounts.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Fitz hoped this was a good omen. He did say it wasn’t anything to worry about but she wished he’d get to the point.
‘Also, you’re pretty good with the French language. Speak like a native, I’m told.’
‘I had three French governesses,’ said Fitz.
‘Yes, I heard through the grapevine you had a nice chat with a couple of Frenchmen at Tangmere recently.’
‘It’s nice to use it when I get the chance,’ replied Fitz, wondering where on earth the conversation was leading to.
A knock at the door interrupted them. ‘Come in,’ called out Henley.
‘Good morning, Henley,’ came the voice of another man.
Fitz turned to see a man in civilian clothes of a suit and tie enter the room. He shook hands with the officer and then looked at Fitz. ‘And you must be the infamous Fitz, I’ve heard so much about.’
‘Yes.’ Fitz got to her feet and shook the outstretched hand of the man.
‘My name’s Wilding, I’m with the Joint Technical Board. We oversee certain foreign operations,’ he explained. He sat down in the seat opposite Fitz, while Henley took his place on the other side of the desk.
Fitz sat down, too. She had no idea what the Joint Technical Board was. She was sure she’d never heard of them.
‘Mr Wilding is looking to recruit some new staff,’ said Henley. ‘It’s come to our attention that you might have the specialist skills he is looking for.’
‘I see,’ said Fitz. ‘And, if I may ask, what sort of position did you have in mind?’ She couldn’t imagine what they wanted her for other than to fly planes, unless it was her language skills and they wanted her to liaise with some of the French operatives that were in England.
Henley and Wilding exchanged a look, before the latter spoke. ‘I can’t say too much about the position just yet. It’s all rather delicate. Anything I say now is said in the utmost confidence. You are not to repeat this to anyone.’
Now Fitz’s interest was really piqued. ‘Of course not.’
‘We’re looking for a young woman such as yourself to undertake a top-secret assignment,’ said Wilding. ‘That’s about all I can say.’
‘And you’ve picked me above anyone else?’ Fitz wasn’t sure who Wilding represented but surely there must be other females he could choose from.
‘We need someone who can speak fluent French and fly a light aircraft,’ said Wilding. ‘That’s all I’m prepared to say right now, other than it will be a highly dangerous mission.’
‘Don’t answer immediately,’ cautioned Henley. ‘Have a few minutes to think about it. I mean really think about it. If you’re not up for it, we can pretend this conversation never happened and move on. No one will think any the worse of you. As Wilding said, it’s highly dangerous.’
‘We’re looking for an attractive young woman such as yourself to act as a bit of a decoy,’ said Wilding. ‘I won’t lie and pretend it’s not risky work. It is. It involves you being dropped into enemy territory and carrying out instructions. Again, it’s highly dangerous. Quite simply, it could cost you your life.’ He looked at Fitz, as if weighing her up. ‘Do you think you’re up for something like that?’
Fitz looked from one man to the other, as she considered what she was being asked. ‘I take it the enemy territory is France.’
‘Indeed. With your linguistic skills, you’ll fit in perfectly as a native. The Germans won’t be able to tell you’re English. That’s what I’ve been told at any rate.’
‘I had no idea anyone had monitored my French so closely,’ said Fitz.
Henley gave a smile. ‘It’s been noted by the right people.’
Fitz didn’t really need to think about it for very long. What did she have to lose? The danger didn’t particularly scare her. She had lost everything dear to her, if she didn’t include her father or her little brother Michael. And maybe she was better off out of their lives, anyway. That way she’d be no bother to her father or her stepmother. Not that she had any particular desire to die but it didn’t frighten her.
‘I accept,’ she declared.